


Empty Cities

by dramady



Category: Adam Lambert - Fandom, American Idol RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-04
Updated: 2010-04-04
Packaged: 2017-10-08 17:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/77741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramady/pseuds/dramady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam Lambert and Lukas Rossi have more in common than one might think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Empty Cities

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred, or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.

This wasn't where he was supposed to be.

There were a million different explanations for how Adam came to be there. But the truth of the matter was that he had just decided that it would be good to go out, somewhere different for a change, without friends, new and old, huddling around him, people crowding around, _hey aren't you- , hey, Adam -!_ Or God, worst of all: _Adam! Look at this!_

Of course, it wasn't like the Viper Room was some shady corner bar either. There were limits to his own rebellion, it seemed.

But as he stood against the wall, his sweating glass in his hand, the light was just low enough he could flip up the collar of his jacket and hide, just a little bit, in plain sight.

The other thing about the Viper Room: most people who were there wanted to think they were cool enough to be there, so they weren't going to suddenly start screaming and crowding over.

He hadn't planned on there being a show there, either, so most of the attention was focused on the stage where the band was returning from break.

"How you guys doin' out there?"

Oh, my God. Adam did a double take.

_Lukas Rossi_.

Yes, Adam knew who Lukas was. He followed him on Twitter, after all. And he knew about Rockstar: Supernova too. Not just because of the Dilana song either. He and Lukas actually had a few things in common. Granted, Adam hadn't been nearly homeless when he'd auditioned for Idol and he sure as hell hadn't been auditioning for a band. A Tommy Lee band to boot. How did all those poor saps not know that they were doomed from the start? But what had intrigued Adam had been how Lukas had soldiered on after, working his fucking _ass_ off to try to make it.

Being married to a porn star wasn't a bad way to go, either. Not Adam's thing, but what the fuck, right?

But they'd both been trying to do what they wanted to do without much success before being on TV and both were anointed as the Second Coming or some shit like that. Maybe it was that Lukas was a cautionary tale. That a flash of fame didn't actually have to mean _anything_. After all, where was Dilana now?

He'd skip right over the eyeliner thing as a common factor, because really.

Add to all that, Lukas's music was _good_. Sure, it wasn't what Adam would write, but the lyrics _screamed_ emotion, often dark emotion, like Lukas was pulling his heart out of his chest and squeezing it so that the audience couldn't help but be spattered by the blood.

Okay, then. No more drinking, he decided, with that thought. Even if it felt true.

But he watched how Lukas snarled into the mic, how it sounded like his throat was being shredded as he hit note after note, how he sweat and played and there was no doubt that what they were seeing was real, from the heart and performed with 100% conviction.

Adam was a performer, a Rock Star, capital R and S. Lukas was a rock star, who gave of his blood, sweat and tears for his music and for his beliefs in general, like the No H8 campaign. Adam didn't want to be a poster child, but Lukas was. Or something.

_I'm gonna burn down this town ... and kill all the memories of you. That's what I'll do...._ Who wrote that kind of stuff? Someone who believed in what they were saying, Adam realized.

At the end of the set, drenched, Lukas raised his guitar. "Thanks, man. Go to my website and check out the tunes; pay what you can. I love you all. Thanks for comin'." And he stepped off the stage, there was a moment of silence, and then recorded music started, the lights of the bar rising a little.

"Can I send drinks back to the band?" Adam heard himself as the bartender.

"We don't - " The bartender, started, then looked up, blinking as he recognized him. "Uh, sure. man. What do you want to send back?"

"Whatever they're drinking?" And Adam pulled out some bills, laying them on the bar. "Thanks."

"Want me to say who from?"

"Um..." Potential awkwardness no matter how he did it, wasn't there? "Sure," he finally said, shrugging and gesturing to the money on the bar. "Is that enough?"

"More than."

"Keep the change then, thanks." And Adam turned back then, watching as Lukas and his band dismantled their own equipment. No roadies for them. He watched the waitress take up the tray of drinks and hand them over, and watched her tell Lukas something, watched him look out, over the crowd; Adam waved, a small movement of his hand. _Hi there_ and _Sorry_ all at once. Lukas toasted him and went back to what he was doing; his gear wasn't going to break itself down, after all. If Adam were Kris, he'd be up there helping, knowing what cables to pull, where to put them and all that. Adam was Adam, so he watched, not wanting to be more of a hindrance than a help.

When he'd finished his drink, Adam set the glass on the bar and pulled his sunglasses from his pocket, ready to head out and hopefully duck any photographers, when he felt the pat on the shoulder.

"Hey, man. You came to see my show? That's kinda rad, dude, no joke."

Adam turned, looking down (okay, so Lukas was _short_, like Kris short). "I'll be honest and say I didn't know you were playing, but you're really good. Your stuff is pretty amazing."

"You think so, man?" Lukas smirked. "That your way of saying you like it?"

"Yeah," Adam answered, grinning a little; he liked the brash directness. "I liked it."

"Good, man, good. Listen, man, I need a smoke? I'm gonna go out back before we take off. You wanna come on back and we talk 'n shit?"

"Sure, why not." After all, Adam thought to himself, wasn't that possibly why he sent the drinks in the first place?

Lukas gave him a smile and turned back toward where he came, shouldering by people, upnodding at the compliments that were paid, giving the occasional fan a hug. There might've been a few who recognized who Adam was, but if they did, they didn't say anything. That was nice too, actually.

Then out back through the heavy back door to where it was cooler, but the air was heavy with cigarette smoke, even as Lukas took his pack and lighter from stunning, even shorter woman. "This is Kendra, my wife, man. My light. Baby, this is Adam. The dude from American Idol."

"I know who you are, hi." And she extended her hand. "Good to meet you. Thanks for the drinks."

"No problem, hi." Her hand was tiny in his, and very capable. For some reason that surprised him.

The lighter snicked shut and Lukas inhaled deeply, turning to blow the smoke away from Adam. "Your record's comin' out soon, right? How's it goin' man?"

"Good, you know, it's going to be sick, it's --" Mid-spiel, Adam stopped himself with a shake of his head and a laugh. "Sorry, that was canned sounding, wasn't it? That's the question everyone seems to be asking me and I just kind of went on auto-pilot there for a second. But I'm excited about it. I hope everyone likes it as much as I do. I guess we'll see."

"First solo thing after the show, huh? Lotta pressure." Lukas nodded. "Least you're not trying to salvage shit. Dude, that sucks so bad when you gotta do that, I"m not kiddin', man. It's rough. You got the whole Rolling Stone thing, the whole momentum thing goin' for you, man. Use it, you know? Fuckin' take it while you can, cuz once that's done, it don't get any easier, lemme tell you, man. It gets fuckin' hard." He took another long drag, arm landing around Kendra's neck.

Deep down in his gut, Adam knew he'd have to fuck up pretty spectacularly for things to fail now. But if they did, he knew he and Lukas would have more in common than what they already shared. He nodded, gaze moving between Lukas and his wife. "How come Tommy Lee never ..."

Lukas snorted out a laugh, slanting a knowing glance over at Kendra before looking back to Adam. "Tommy, man, is a great friend when things are good, man, but unless your name is fuckin' Pamela Anderson, watch your back when it falls apart, dude. Just sayin'."

Adam winced. Loyalty in Hollywood was hard to come by, in the music industry or anywhere else. Nodding, he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "You have more shows coming up?"

With a nod, Lukas answered, "Some more here, some in Canada, man. Hometown crowd and that. You gonna tour, too, yeah? If you need an opening act, man, give me a call, dude." And he laughed, a high pitched near-giggle. It was a joke; Adam could tell he wasn't really serious. They weren't alike at all, their music having a different audience.

But Adam couldn't help but wish for that moment, that he could say yes, that he could tell Lukas, "fuck yeah, you'll open for me and it'll take off and be great."

He, of course, didn't say anything. He smiled and they all knew the truth. Drinks were one thing; business was another. And in that moment, Adam felt like shit. In this small circle, he was the phony and that was just unusual enough to suck. A lot.

"Actually," he found himself saying, "give me your number? Or I can give you mine? I'd kind of like to write something with you, if you want to?"

And he saw something change behind Lukas's eyes and he turned to Kendra, who pulled his phone out of a purse big enough to house a litter of puppies. Adam pulled out his, they both laughed at having iPhones, then exchanged and programmed in the numbers and handed them back.

"Awesome, thanks. I'll be in touch. Soon." And Adam meant it, too. There was, he realized, a lot to learn from Lukas. He had a lot to learn, period.

"Cool, man. Thanks. We're gonna head, man. Good to see you 'n take care, okay?" Lukas grinned and stuck out a calloused hand dotted by chipped black-polished fingernails. Adam, who'd just had a manicure, squeezed his with a soft laugh.

"Cool. You guys take care and I'll talk to you soon." Adam gave them both a little wave and headed around the building toward the street to get his car and head home.

As he gave the valet his ticket, he saw the Navigator pull out and saw Lukas wave from the passenger window. He waved back. And as he climbed into the driver's side of the Mustang, he was singing under his breath, "I'm gonna burn down this town..." Maybe he'd twitter when he got home; _Check out Lukas Rossi!_ Throw some support his way. Or maybe he'd just call Lukas the next day or the day after that and they could meet up and see if they could find something to say together that fit to music.

Somehow, he had a hunch, they would. They did, after all, have a lot more in common than a lot of people might have thought.


End file.
